Hear My Voice

​There is no hurt so large that my Father would be thwarted by its very presence. There is no blemish, abuse, or act that need be hidden from Him.
 
He is an endless supply of salve applied to the gashes of my heart.
He walks through the darkest places unmoved by the devastation.
His authority topples the greatest of strongholds.
 
If only, I would bring my hurt to the feet of my precious Jesus. If only, I would fling the doors of my heart wide open, flooding it with the light of the Holy Spirit.
 
Make me brave that I would cry out from the deepest places of my soul. You hear my voice.

​No masks or painted faces, I would adorn my naked wounds as pearls about my neck, flowers in my hair.

You hear me.
You see me.
 
I would dance in your presence with bleeding, open wounds—an extravagant dance because You have no fear of what has become of me. I would dance with boldness.

I am Yours.
​You will not turn away from the darkness. 

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